To Catch a Thief
by Cherub
Summary: An alternate reality fic. Two detectives on a robbery investigation encounter a mysterious helper. (Storm/Gambit, Wolverine)
1. Chapter 1

pTo Catch a Thief. /p  
pBy Cherub. /p  
pDisclaimer: X-Men and related characters belong to Marvel, no $ being made here...sigh/p br  
br pThe woman towered over her partner in a way that could only be described as majestic, looking down to meet his eyes she said simply, but in a tone of severe warning, /p p"Logan."/p p"Munroe." The hairy little man retorted, not one to be outdone./p br pIt was a kind of ritual for them, two detectives, unsure of what dangers the night may hold. It was their own little way of saying "be careful" and an unspoken reassurance that one had the other's back if anything should go wrong./p pLeaving the side of the unmarked vehicle, the two walked the remaining 3 blocks to what they hoped would be the fruit of months of labor. Detectives Ororo Munroe and John Logan were on the trail of a burglary ring. Normally the work of the "footmen" as Logan called them, they had been called on to the case due to the fact that a reasonable pattern had yet to be spotted in the locations of the heists, and because of the unusual nature of the criminals themselves. Out of the myriad assortment of guns, knives and the usual weapons involved in these sort of crimes, the criminals in this case chose crossbows that attached to their forearms and had no compunctions about using them on anyone unfortunate enough to stumble across their path.. An oddity in itself, it was discovered through autopsies of their victims that the arrowtips were laced with a rare and deadly venom, making even a flesh wound fatal. Over at St Vincent's, Dr Henry McCoy had been searching frantically through hospital records, textbooks, even internet sites for the anti-venom, but had found nothing as of yet./p pLogan and Munroe had received an anonymous tip that afternoon that indicated the site of the next crime. Undercover agents had been crawling over the area for the better part of the evening. /p p"You got your men on the exits?" Logan askd the young undercover officer as he adjusted his shoulder holster../p p"Yes, sir."/p pLogan removed his cowboy hat and in one smooth motion wiped his brow with the arm of his shirt and replaced the hat, flicking away the remains of his cigar with the other hand. He looked to his partner, studied her expression, winced at the way her snowy hair was pulled severely away from her face in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Were it not for her soft blue eyes, it would have made her look cruel. "Front door, Munroe?"/p p"Why not, Logan. Today is as good a day as any to die." She was only teasing him. Her suggestion would have been no different. It was safe to assume the burglars didn't go in that way. From her own experiance she knew that oftentimes criminals seem to forget that a front entrance exists. They never use it, after all./p br pThe two moved cautiously through the dark entrance until the building forked off in different directions. Logan took the left. Munroe the right./p pFrom outside the crack of gunfire echoed. The inside soon became chaos. Munroe spotted movement around the corner and purued it, finding a young auburn-haired man in a leather duster at the end of her gun barrel. /p p"Do not move."/p pThe man wasn't listening, he was watching the figure behind her as he grabbed her around the waist and flung her to the ground under his arm./p pHe wasn't fast enough./p br pIn the sudden confusion Munroe fired her weapon and missed, the bullet lodged impotently in the wall above the strange man's head./p pThe shot aimed at her did not miss. Picking up the gun she had dropped on the floor the stranger fired two rounds at her assailant. The first shot caught him in the gut, the second in the knee cap. The thief wasn't dead, but he wasn't going anywhere either. The young man picked up Munroe's radio shouting into it,/p p"Officer down! Ground floor near the stairs...Hurry!"/p pWithin seconds, Logan was there ordering the stranger to step away from Munroe. Once again he raised his hands, but not before dropping a small scrap of paper beside the prone detective. Logan glanced down at his partner and when he looked back up the young man was gone./p br pAt St Vincent's it was discovered that the slip of paper the odd man had dropped had scrawled upon it the name of the anti-venom./p pLogan's head spun with unanswered questions, had this man been the informant? What was he doing there, and if, as it would appear, he was also a criminal, why would he help them?/p pThe answers would be forthcoming, but not in the manner Logan expected./p br pDet. John Logan sat impatiently in one of the hospital's many waiting rooms until he was told he could see his partner./p pLogan opened the door with an expression on his face that seemed to be a curious mix of relief and anger. Stepping into the room, it turned to one of rage. At the foot of the bed stood the stranger, still clad in the dark brown duster, gazing over the sleeping form of Ororo with a sad little smile playing on his lips./p p"You." Logan growled. "What the hell are you doing here?!?"/p p"Jus' wanted t'see if she was okay, Detective."/p  
p"Look, bub, you're comin' with me. I got some questions and I'm pretty damn sure you've got the answers."/p p"Sorry, m'suir, in a hurry jus' now. Some other time, non?" With that the stranger moved to the open window and leaped out to what would have been certain death, but as Logan ran to the window and looked out, the man was nowhere to be seen./p pLogan turned back to his sleeping partner, sat on the edge of her bed, and more tenderly than anyone would have expected him capable of, he ran his fingertips over her soft brown cheek./p p"Munroe." He whispered./p p"Logan?" She asked groggily, opening her eyes./p pHe leaned down towards her face and said with deadly seriousness, "Don't EVER scare me like that again."/p p"Why, Logan." She taunted him, " You do care after all."/p p"Just don't want some punk straight out of the academy for my new partner."/p p"Of course."/p pTo avoid Ororo's mocking eyes, Logan glanced around the drab little room and spotted the note the stranger had left behind. /p p"What is it with this guy and notes?"/p br  
br   
 


	2. Chapter 2

"What is it, Logan?" Ororo asked as she raised herself up in the hospital bed with the help of the railings. Logan stared down at the scrap of paper. It read, simply, "Tomorow night. O'Corleys. Just you and the belle." signed "Gambit." "Looks like we got an appointment tomorrow, 'Ro." He immediately spotted the two detectives as they entered the smoke filled bar. Only in New York, he thought wryly. They were far more conspicous than officers of their caliber should be. Alone they might have gone unnoticed, but together was another story. The man was short with wild unruly hair sticking out under his hat....scratch that, wild unruly hair sticking out all over him. Thick mutton chop sideburns adorned the sides of his face above a flannel shirt and worn out jeans. The woman beside him? She could have just stepped off a runway. Her hair was tied back in an intricate sort of braid, tiny strands of white silk pulling loose and resting on her chocolate colored cheeks. She wore a white shirt with French cuffs under a pinstriped vest and matching slacks. The stranger sat back in his booth and admired the gentle sway of her hips all the way to his table. He spoke to her first, ignoring the glare from her partner, "How're you feeling, chere?" "Fine. Thanks to you." She hadn't intended to sound so gracious. "So who are you and what do you want?" Her partner interrupted as he slid into the booth beside her. "Now, mon ami, dat ain't no way t'begin pleasant conversation. You hungry?" "Just ate." Logan looked as though he were ready to skewer the man already. "Belle?" "No thank you." "Ah, well, had t'try. You can call me 'Gambit'...I would like t'make ya an offer." "No deal, just tell us what you know and I won't toss your Creole ass in jail tonight." "What kind of a deal, Gambit?" Ororo undermined her partner, earning her a fierce look from him. "Ah, de belle has manners at least. And smart too, t'ask b'fore ya say 'no'." "Now listen here, Gumbo--" "Logan, please." Munroe shushed him. "The man saved my life, we could at least hear him out." "Did Gambit say she was smart already? I want t'help ya catch dese t'ieves." "Why ain't you a thief too?" "Oui, Logan, dat be one of de reasons. Men like dis, dey bad fo' my business, and I owe a little payback to dere bossman." "You know who they are working for? Tell us please." "All in good time, chere." "So what do ya want with us?" "I need y'help t'get him. I turn over his name and Gambit be a dead man. But if you help me break into his hideout....." "Okay so we set up a raid, tell us when and where." "It is not that simple, is it?" Munroe asked. "Non, chere." "Then how can we help?" "I took de liberty of checkin' into a few t'ings before I ran into you. Seems Det Munroe hasn't always been on de side of de angels?" "What are you talking about?" "Cairo ring a bell, chere? De statute of limitations be up on most of de warrents, but not on all....." "What is he talking about, Munroe?' "Blackmail, Gambit?" She asked. "Gambit never use such a vulgar word, belle, but if dat's what you wanna call it. Oui." "What do you want from me?" She asked incredulous. "You an' me will break into de boss man's place and catch him unawares. I cain' do it alone, chere, but if you half as good as Achmed claims, we can do it t'gether. We take out de boss, call in de locals and walk away." "What makes you think I will agree?" "You like yo' job, chere, you like yo' life, you don't want to go back to Cairo, livin' hand t'mouth again do you?" "You bastard." "Such words from de lady. You a stormy one, non? T'ink dat's what I'll call you...Stormy." She gave him a look that would kill a small animal, but he shook it off nonplussed. "T'ink about it. I'll be outside fo' 15 minutes. You agree, you leave wit' me to prepare. You don' agree, well......." Ororo Munroe watched the strange man rise out of the booth and walk outside, his auburn hair hung over his eyes, which were covered by sunglasses even inside the dimly lit bar. Still wearing the long leather coat over a well fitting black knit shirt and a pair of well worn jeans. She couldn't hear the sound of the boots she knew he wore, his tread was too light. When he was out of sight she turned to her partner. "No way, Ororo, not happening." "Logan I have no alternative." "Then what he said was true? Figures. Keep waitin' for my past to come haunt me, too. But the answer's still no." "Logan, I must." "What makes you think you can trust this guy? Somebody calling himself 'Gambit'. What the hell is a gambit anyway?" "A chess move. Wherein a piece is sacrificed to gain an advantage over the game." She answered him vaguely, pushing back the memories of her old life. "An' he wants to sacrifice you?" "No, I do not believe so. I believe he is willing to sacrifice himself if necessary to stop the person responsible for all this." "Why would he do that?" "Let us pray that we do not find out, my friend. For all his arrogance, the man is walking wounded. He will not harm me Logan, not intentionally. I must help him." Logan wanted to disagree, but his senses told him she was right. He just didn't like the idea of letting her go off alone with some stranger whose motives were yet to be determined. That coupled with the fact that Gambit just rubbed him the wrong way... the guy was an annoying little shit. He watched Ororo walk out of the bar and wondered how long it would be before he saw her again. Tomorrow, he would call the chief and tell him Munroe had some things to take care of while she recuperated and he would go back to work alone.   
  
 


	3. Chapter 3

Detective Ororo Munroe sat hunched over a cup of steaming coffee at the large wooden desk in the posh penthouse apartment. She had been pouring over blueprints for what seemed like hours. Her mysterious host had left to retrieve dinner for the two some time ago. Having had enough, Ororo rose from the chair and stretched like a cat, wincing as her joints popped and cracked angrily. Yawning she looked to the clock just above her on the cream colored wall. 12:30 am. No wonder. "Bonjour, Stormy," Gambit said from behind her. She hadn't even heard him come in. "Been studyin'?" he asked her. "Yes, and do not call me that ridiculous name.....Gambit, are you certain we have nothing better to work from? These blueprints are thirty years old! Who knows what kind of renovations have been made since--" "I know, chere. Gambit been dere." She had also had enough of "Gambit" not telling her anything. Her words flew at him in a torrent, "What is your connection to this man? Are you certain he is behind this? What did he do to you?! Who are you anyway?!?" "One question at a time, chere." Gambit sighed, "Now as good a time t'tell you as any.....his name is Nathaniel Essex......Gambit used t'work fo' him. Not by choice, mind you......he t'reaten me said he'd kill me an' everybody dis cajun care about if I don' help him.... Den one o' his men kill my brother and my girl,-- fo' de hell of it......An' Essex himself? He tricked me. Sent me on a job wit' de others...it weren't a robbery, chere, it was a massacre.....When Gambit realize what happen? I ran and never looked back, but plan a way to stop dis man fo' good. He has t'pay fo' what he's done, chere. De man's pure evil.....he gotta be stopped......" When he was finished speaking, Gambit dropped his head and looked at the floor, not wanting Ororo to see the tears in his eyes. She didn't. "Gambit, surely you do not expect me to help you kill this man? I am a police officer, I cannot--" "No, chere, Gambit jus' need your help t'get in de place and past de guards. I'll take care of Essex..." He was silent for a moment and laid a large package on the desk in front of Ororo. "Here, bought you a dress. It should fit. Hurry, comb y' hair you look a fright. We have plans for de evening." "I beg your pardon?" "Practice, chere. Dere's a big fancy party tonight. Invitation only, dat kind of t'ing. You an' I will break in de hotel, dress, go downstairs to dance, and out de front door. Gambit testin' you." "And if I fail?" "You won'." They would begin from the rooftop. Looking over his shoulder at Ororo, Gambit said, "Oh, an' chere? Fifteen minutes, alright?" He turned away and Munroe watched him walk across to the other end of the roof and jump off. Just when she thought this would be easy. Gazing down her perch atop the hotel, Ororo tried to judge the distance to the first balcony below her. It was farther than she cared to think about. Well, here goes nothing, she thought as she backflipped from the rooftop, wishing Gambit had thought to bring a rope, and landed precariously on the railing of the balcony, her arms held out to balance her. The room was occupied. "Fred, honey, did you hear something?" "Yeah, sounded like something outside." The voices came from just inside the room. Ororo froze for a few heart pounding seconds and jumped back, first catching her fingertips on the bottom rail as the door opened and a man peered out. The room below was dark. "Probably just birds or something, Sally." Once Fred was safely back inside she let herself drop to the next balcony, her swing just enough to ensure she would land safely in its center. Not knowing if anyone was in the room or not, Ororo set to picking the lock on the door, wondering vaguely why there were locks on a door leading out to a balcony 16 stories above the ground. To protect against suicidal thieves? The door opened without a sound. Someone had been staying in the room, but it appeared he was not there just now. Unwrapping the garment bag tied to her back, she unzipped the dress and laid it on the bed. Noticing now, the light under the bathroom door. "Honey, is that you?" a voice called out. She dove under the bed as the door opened, and heard the other woman gasp at the sight of a sequined gown lying upon the bed. "Oh, Ralph, you are too sweet!" Laughing she carried the dress back to the bathroom to dress. Wonderful, Ororo thought to herself. Now what? The woman in the bathroom began to sing to herself and Ororo crept out from under the bed to raid the woman's closet. Inside she found a dark dress that felt like chiffon. Quickly, she pulled off her tank top and cargo pants, thankful she still had the shoes Gambit gave her. She grimaced when she zipped the dress, realizing the other woman was a full size smaller. It would have to do, though. She tossed her clothing into the wastebasket pulled on the slingbacked heels, and slipped out the door into the hallway without a sound. Three minutes left. She took the elevator down, checking herself in its mirrored walls. Goddess, the dress was tight. Stopping on the ground floor, Ororo Munroe made her way to the ballroom amid the crowd of guests. Gambit was seated at a table, looking impeccable in his tuxedo, sipping champagne as she entered. He rose from his chair, setting down his glass and they stepped onto the dancefloor from opposite ends. He moved with a feline grace to catch her in his arms for the dance he promised her. "Dat not de dress I bought fo' you." "My aplogies, I had to improvise." "S'okay. I like dis one better. Do you Tango?" "Not in years." "Den let dis t'ief refresh yo' memory, eh?" He pressed his lean muscular body against hers as he led her through the sultry movements. A small crowd began to form around them, watching them dance. Their eyes locked on each other but said nothing. Just before the music stopped, Gambit spun Ororo into an elaborate dip and kissed her squarely on the mouth. 


	4. Chapter 4

To say Ororo was surprised at the action would have been something of an understatement, but her momentary anger was swallowed by the cheers of the crowd, and she couldn't help but smile as she realized she hadn't had this much fun in years. The couple made their way through the thickening crowd and out the large double doors of the hotel to the damp city street. "You were magnifique, ma chere." "Thank you....Now do you trust me? Are we ready?" "Not ready yet, chere. Trust you? Oui, an' dat says a lot comin' from someone like Gambit here." For a moment his expression was too intense and she realized that although they had been watching her all night she still had not seen his eyes. They were covered by tiny dark lenses as always. "What is your real name?" She asked him. "Remy.....Remy Etienne LeBeau." "Remy." She tested the name upon her lips, moved her hands slowly toward his face and removed the sunglasses. Quickly, he looked away as though his eyes held some secret he didn't want to share. Seeing that she did not flinch, he returned his gaze to Ororo. She seemed merely curious as she studied red irises atop black eyes. "Birt' defect." He said, in answer to an unspoken question. "Dey always been dis way. Wear de shades t' hide dem and protect dem. Light sensitive." "It is no more strange than blue eyes and white hair on a black woman. I too, was born this way." "Oui, chere, but your differences make you beautiful, while I jus' have de eyes of a demon." "You are no demon, Ga--Remy. You are a good man." She was standing too close. He knew it. She knew it. But neither moved to back away. Their eyes fastened upon each other, red on black meeting cobalt blue, barely concealed passion burned within them. "We better go, belle." LeBeau broke away and hailed a cab, ending the trance. The ride back to the apartment was made in silence, lingering glances between the two revealing far more than words could have. It happened in the elevator. The tension was bound to become too much. Remy and Ororo stared at each other, drawn to one another like a moth to flame, but too proud to do anything about it. Remy broke first. He stepped across the small distance separating them, grabbed Ororo around the waist and kissed her passionately, nearly bruising her tender lips as he devoured the scent of her, the taste of her. Ororo ran her hands across his back, under the tuxedo jacket, her fingernails raking across the soft fabric of his shirt. Her leg rose unconcsiously to wrap around his. The elevator stopped on the top floor and they stumbled out, never letting go. Inside, a jacket was thrown across a chair, shoes in the floor, tie in the kitchen. Ororo's breath became unsteady as she unbuttoned his shirt; his eyes never left hers. Those eyes, so strange and mysterious, she was not at all frightened by them, fascinated would have been a better word had she been able to think of it. At the moment all she was aware of was an acute desire to touch this beautiful man, to be as close to him as possible. When she moved her hands to his belt, he stopped her, catching her hands in his and pulled her slowly towards the bedroom. Once there, he unzipped her dress, and revealing her beautiful back he trailed kisses down her spine, igniting her passion. Turning to face him, Ororo let the dress fall to her shoulders, baring her cleavage and pushed Remy into the soft pillows of the bed. Watching his eyes widen in yet another surge of passion, Ororo allowed herself a small shake and the dress slipped silently to the floor...... In the morning, she awoke to the smell of coffee and Remy's gentle touch as he ran his fingers absently through her snowy tresses. "Good mornin', Stormy, sleep well?" "Yes.....Thank you. Why must you call me 'Stormy'?" "Suits you. Even more now that I know how stormy you really are." He grinned devilshly. "Now, chere, drink your coffee, we 'ave work to do." The rest of the morning was business as usual, they studied blueprints, did some sparring. Remy expressed concern about her fighting ability and mentioned another test for the evening. Not another word was spoken about the previous night. 


	5. Chapter 5

Detective John Logan sat at his desk writing up his report from the latest burglary and trying in vain not to let his thoughts roam to his partner. "Dammit, Munroe," he said to himself, " Where the hell are you?!" He slammed his fist upon the desk earning a curious glance from the night janitor in the hall who then shrugged and continued mopping the floor. Logan knew Ororo could take care of herself, and that she would have teased him to no end for worrying this way. He looked out the window over the lights of the city and tried to clear his head. She was fine. She would be back in a day or two. But all he could see in his mind's eye was the image of her lying on the marble floor of that building, the strange man in the trenchcoat dropping a slip of paper beside Munroe's prone form. Logan was not one to be afraid--of anything, but that moment.....had terrified him. He shook himself, rubbed his face in his hands and went back to work. "No, Remy, absolutely not." Ororo Munroe said looking at her reflection in the mirror. Remy had chosen the outfit for her to wear and in retrospect he had to admit it was a little tacky. Black fishnet stockings under spiked heels and a miniskirt that left very little to the imagination. Sexy? Yes, but still a little tacky for someone as normally regal as Ororo was. She wouldn't come out of the bathroom to let him see it. "Okay, chere. What about de o'ter one, eh?" About fifteen minutes later, she emerged. Remy looked at her, blinked and looked again. She made the right choice. Black leather pants that hugged every curve of her lower body, a bare midsection encircled by a tiny silver chain, lace up leather halter, she looked spectacular in a way that was nearly indecent. Her hair was pulled high in a ponytail atop her head that allowed snowy tresses to cascade down her back like a waterfall, Remy felt an incredible urge to run his fingers through those curls, to bury his face in them and breathe in her scent. But there was no time for such pleasures. He was going to test her fighting ablity tonight against multiple opponents. With Ororo dressed this way, they should have no problem getting into trouble. They chose the run down bar by the number of Harley's in the parking lot. Bikers are not nearly as violent as their reputation, but a beautiful woman will get their dander up every time. Ororo entered the open door of the establishment turning every head inside. Taking a seat at the bar it wasn't long before she started to draw a crowd. Remy stood outside, some distance away, leaning against the door of his convertable and taking slow deep drags from his cigarette. He found his thoughts turning to the previous night, how he knew it had been a mistake from the moment he kissed her. What was the rule? Business before pleasure? They had a job to do, and although Remy would never say such a thing to Ororo, he wasn't sure it could be done. He wasn't sure they would both make it out alive when the time came to go after Essex. And time was running out, they had three days left before the narrow window of opportunity closed. Essex may have been aware of their actions at that very moment. Remy prayed this was not so. He filicked his cigarette away and scratched at the five o'clock shadow ever present over his jaw, and berated himself for getting personally involved with Ororo. There was just something about her that he had never seen in any other woman, an inner beauty, and inner strength as well as a passion unseen beneath her calm exterior. Remy sighed heavily and pushed up his dark glasses back up to his nose. Whether they survived the attack on Essex or not, he would still lose her... He looked at his watch. It was time to go inside now. "Chere, dere you are!" He called out to Ororo as he entered the door. "Remy been lookin' everywhere fo' you!" "Beat it pal, she's with us." Said a particularly scruffy man covered in tattoos. The man had his arm around Ororo's shoulders. Remy felt a twinge of jealousy, but knew this was just part of the show. "Oh, really, mon ami?" He grinned devilishly at the larger man. Twenty minutes later, Ororo and Remy sat at the bar alone. Two men were still unconcious on the floor, the others had fled. LeBeau handed the bartender enough cash to cover their drinks and pay for the damages to the bar before leading Ororo outside. "Did I pass your 'test'?" She asked once they were safely out of earshot. "Oui, ma chere." He smiled, but his tone was sad. "What is wrong, Remy?" "Not'ing, Stormy." "Do not call me that, and do not lie to me. Something is troubling you. Have I not passed all your tests yet?" "Oui. You 'ave." "Then what is wrong?" He pulled off his glasses and looked hard into her face. "I wish you had'nt passed 'dem. Remy don't want you involved in dis now." "Do not be ridiculous. You need my help." "Non." "Yes, Remy. I will not let you go through this alone. Not now. Do not argue with me, it is useless." She tried to smile, but she was deadly serious and in a way it frightened her. It was frightening how quickly and how strongly she had come to care for this man. She would not let him go after Essex alone, no matter the consequences she would face for helping him. Ororo brushed a lock of errant hair away from Remy's eyes and her face broke into one of her rare, genuine smiles, thinking that she just might be falling for this man. 


	6. Chapter 6

The attack on Essex's hideout was planned as precisely as possible. They knew where to enter the building and when and who they would have to fight through to reach Essex. Ororo had already fabricated a story to explain their actions to the police when the time came to call for back up. A story that she had already informed Logan of certain that he would stand behind her on it. Just to verify everything Munroe called her partner before leaving. "Munroe? Where the hell are you? Is it over? When are you coming home?" "Logan, calm down." She answered him, "I am fine. We are going after the ringleader tonight. I can tell you no more right now. I will call you back when it is over. We will need back up, but please, Logan, wait for my cue." "Yer outta yer gourd, Munroe. Where are you? I'll be right there with--" "Logan, please." She interrupted. "Trust me?" "Munroe!" "Goodbye, Logan." "Munroe!!" He screamed into the phone, but the only response was a click and the sudden blare of a dial tone. "Dammit!" He slammed the phone down on the receiver. The building that Essex had been "hiding" in appeared somewhat shabby from the outside, but inside Remy knew, was another story. Remy LeBeau and Det. Ororo Munroe managed to get in the front door without triggering any alarms. Remy had tried to remember the laser patterns that crisscrossed just inches above the floor, but he knew they must have been altered in the time he'd been gone from this place, surely they wouldn't leave them all the same. If he knew Essex, the patterns were just similar enough to give him a sense of security before--- The alarm sounded. Here dey come---we're screwed, Remy thought miserably as five of Essex's highest ranking guards ran down the hall towards the intruders. Ororo looked to Remy, but he was gone. Damn that man and the way he just....vanishes! Directly to Ororo's right was a woman she knew to be Vertigo from Remy's description. The sickly green strands in her otherwise platinum hair were unmistakable, and she was fast enough to make your head spin, Munroe realized as she began defending herself from the woman's blows. Closing in on her left was a man in a strange mask who had to be Toad. Also Scalphunter and a few she didn't immediately recognize. Fighting her way through them and dodging arrows from their crossbows, she reached for her gun only to find her shoulder holster quite empty. Remy must have taken it in the confusion. Terrific. She thought, barely dodging one of Toad's arrows, she kicked Veritgo's legs from under her, bringing the other woman crashing to the floor. Quickly, she backhanded the green haired woman hard enough to leave her unconscious, grabbed for Vertigo's weapon and kept moving. One down. She counted. Backing against the stone wall of the hall for protection, she opened fire on her assailants, vaguely hoping they had the antidote for the venom the arrowtips were coated in, and feeling guilty for using their weapons, but what choice did she have? When her attackers all appeared to be down for the count she followed the stairway to an upper office all the while thinking this was too easy, too pat. Upstairs she found out why. From his size and apparent viciousness, she determined the huge man holding Remy by the throat to be Victor Creed...Sabertooth. Munroe had heard stories about the man from others than Gambit. Creed's crimes were as violent as they were innumerable. The police had been looking for this guy for years. Ororo had one shot left from the pouch of extra arrows she had taken off Vertigo. He didn't see her yet. Good. Aiming carefully as Logan had once taught her to do, she shot the arrow into Creed's shoulder, just above the arm that held Remy aloft, feet dangling. It worked in the respect that he dropped the cajun, but without missing a beat, Creed swung his other arm around knocking the breath out of Remy and sending him sliding across the floor. "So the frail wants ta play, now?" He growled at her. Blonde hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, Creed charged at Ororo pulling a knife from under his coat. Ororo saw her gun lying on the floor where Remy had dropped it and risked a dive towards it, when Creed tackled her, his blade slicing through her leather jacket and leaving shallow cuts across her back. Breathless, Ororo tried to throw him off of her to no avail, the large man lifted his knife above his head, and seemed to relish the fear he saw in her eyes as that arm came sweeping down.......... Instead, the crack of gunfire could be heard. Remy had crawled over to the detective's gun on the floor, and raised it just in time to catch Creed in the back of the head before he could stab Ororo. The hulking man tumbled sideways onto the tile floor allowing Ororo to push herself out from under him. Remy was already running further down the hall to another office, Ororo on his heels. Inside the room, she stopped and stared at the gruesome decor. Shelves along the walls were lined with jars of formaldehyde and contained various human body parts. Ancient symbols, ceremonial knives, masks and vials of what Ororo supposed were the venom used on the arrows of his accomplices. Behind a heavy mahogany desk sat a pale, gaunt man with a strange diamond shaped tatoo in the middle of his forehead. Remy pointed Ororo's gun at that tatoo. "Remy, please," she said to him, "Not like this.....it will not bring them back." "Non, chere, but it'll make me feel much betta'." "Remy, he is unarmed." "Non, he's not." Another voice spoke up, harsh and cruel and older than it should have sounded, "Pardon my interruption, but he's right, you know.........Not that it matters much." With that, Essex raised his own gun and aimed for Ororo's heart. Remy shot him. Bullet to the brain. Essex never had a chance to fire his own weapon, his head fell backward in the chair at an angle that could only be appropriate for a dead man. While his nerve was up, Remy rushed back to the spot where they had left Creed. But he was gone....... 


	7. Chapter 7

Remy fell to his knees, eyes wide in disbelief. Ororo stood against the wall trying to regain her composure as she dialed Logan's number on her cell phone. He answered on the first ring. "Logan, it's Ororo. It is over." She gave him their location and hung up. "Back up?" Remy asked, looking up at her with those strange red on black eyes. Ororo nodded, and taking her gun back from him, she wiped it of prints with a handkerchief before replacing it in her shoulder holster. "Why you do dat, chere? I killed 'im." "No, you did not. Now just be quiet until the others arrive. Let me explain everything." When the boys in blue arrived they arrested the still unconscious guards downstairs first Logan leaving them to it as he called out for Munroe and Gambit. "What happened?" he asked after surveying the scene upstairs. "In that office, is the man responsible for the burglaries." Ororo answered. "Any idea what his motive was?" "None, but the notebooks in his office should prove useful in that respect." "You noticed them too?" Logan asked. "No, but I assume they are there, considering the displays in that room." "Good enough. Who killed him?" "I did." Munroe stated simply. "Really, Munroe?" Logan raised a bushy eyebrow. He knew Ororo better than anyone. Killing just wasn't in her nature, his maybe, but not hers. Sure she'd beat the living tar out of someone, but never kill. "He was about to shoot Rem---Gambit here. An unarmed man." "Riiiiiight. So how did you get here?" "I received a telephone call from Gambit about an hour ago. In my car at the time, I came immediately. I telephoned you as soon as it was safe to do so." "An' that's yer story, darlin'?" "It is the truth, my friend." Gambit watched this exhange curiously, the amazement clear upon his face. After questions were asked and reports were file, Remy LeBeau was offered a clean slate for his tesimony against Essex's guards, but he declined the offer and quickly dropped out of sight. About a month later, Det Ororo Munroe had resigned herself to the fact that she would never see the handsome cajun again, and tried to return to her old, normal life. Lying awake in bed, she pretended to sleep, thinking that's what she should be doing at this time of night. She didn't hear the footsteps in the hall, slowly making their way to her bedroom. Opening her eyes just a crack when she felt someone else's presence in the room, she saw him. Sillouetted by the moonlight streaming through her window. He was beautiful as always. She knew him at once. "Know ya not sleepin', Stormy." he whispered. "Do not call me that." He sat softly on the bed beside her. "Why did ya lie, chere, why did you help me?" "Oh, Remy, do you not know?" "I know dat I owe you my freedom, my life." "Then we are even, yes?" She asked him, sitting up to face him, her snowy tresses glowing the the moonlight. "Non, cherie, I 'ave no way t'repay you." "Stay--Accept their offer for your testimony." "I can', belle. It's not over yet." "Creed?" "Oui." "And you know that it will still solve nothing?" Her voice was filled with anger and hurt, "Remy, if you go after this man I cannot save you." "I don' deserve t'be saved, belle." He said sadly. "Do not go." "Y'know I 'ave to." "Remy, I--" "Don't, chere, please. Don't make it hurt more." He begged her and silenced her with a kiss. Ororo blinked her tears away and as swiflty as he entered her room, he was closing the door behind him. From the hallway, Ororo heard his voice again, "Goodbye, mon amour." "Remy! Wait---" Her voiced died away to a whisper. He was already gone. 


End file.
